Page 53 of Midnight Racers

My hockey stick lay on the kitchen counter. How the hell had that got there?

I crept ever closer to it while Flynn fought in hand-to-hand combat. Both men seemed to be well versed in how to use their bodies as weapons. I craned my neck, trying to see where Pixie was hiding since she didn’t like strangers.

Flynn pulled the balaclava off the burglar and I recognised him as someone I’d seen visiting Dale back at Dad’s factory. He punched Flynn, whose reaction was a powerful kick to his chest. I was halfway toward the conservatory when a hand grabbed me on my way past the utility area.

A pitiful squeak emerged as I was too terrified to scream. A man tried to drag me into the darkness of the utility room, the only weapon in my arsenal the frying pan I had washed and left to dry beside the sink this morning when I made pancakes for breakfast.

Instinctively, I grabbed the frying pan and wielded it like a shield, hitting his arm when he reached for me again. The more he tried to get to me, the faster and harder I struck until he stopped moving and lay still on the floor.

“Good aim.” I jumped at the sound of Flynn’s voice at my ear, spinning to check if he was hurt.

“Who? What? Why?” I muttered, confused and babbling.

“Someone who is not happy that you took their toys away,” Flynn replied.

A man dressed in black tried to push past us. He must have been upstairs since I hadn’t seen him on my journey through the house. Flynn grabbed him and spun him toward him, his arm snaking around the guy’s neck. One swift movement and there was a low crunch before he fell lifeless to the floor.

“Is he?” I recoiled in horror, taking a step back, my eyes flashing up to meet his. “Is he dead?”

Flynn took a deep breath, his chest expanding. “Charlotte, these men didn’t come here tonight for tea and biscuits. They were most likely going to abduct you, perhaps throw in some rape along the way, and then they would have tortured you to get control of your designs.”

My gaze moved slowly to the floor, none of the information making sense to me. “Is he dead?” I repeated.

Flynn shrugged one muscular shoulder. “He is, the same as the one you got with the frying pan.”

My eyes widened and mouth fell open before I lunged forward to desperately check for a pulse that seemed to be absent. I brought my horrified gaze up to meet his. “I killed a man. I’m a murderer.”

Flynn crouched beside me. “The world is filled with evil. Sometimes there are greater and lesser evils. This is a lesser one, Charlotte, believe me.”

“I have to call the police,” I whispered. “I killed someone.”

“No,” he said in a dull tone. “This is where you go and pack your bag since your home is no longer safe. You’ll be staying with me.”

“But—” I pointed at the dead bodies on my kitchen floor.

“Charlotte.” His hands cupped my face. “This is my world. I tried to tell you before, but you thought I was joking. Let me handle this. There will be no police, no questions, and the next time you come home, it will be as if none of this ever happened.”

“But—”

His forehead pressed to mine. “Trust me.”

It was as simple and complicated as that. I did trust him. With my life.

“Pixie?” I asked.

“I’ll find her. Go get packed.”

He arrived in my bedroom ten minutes later carrying my indignant cat. Flynn dragged his clothes on.

“Declan and Joshua are on their way. I told them you texted me when you heard invaders in your home.” He glanced up from under his hair. “They won’t ask any questions.”

I nodded, still unsure what I was supposed to be doing.

“Pack,” he reminded me. “Just for a few days. We can get what you need after that.”

“I can go and stay with Mum,” I said, my nerves finally giving way and I slumped onto the side of the bed.

Flynn walked forward on his knees to between my legs, his hands widening them for him. “You’re coming to stay with me. Your mum can’t protect you from these types of men.”

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